Distant Shores: Part 1

The Rules of Engagement

A JAG Story

Written by Matthew R. White

© October 15, 2013

Based on the Characters and series created by Donald P. Bellisario

...

Historian's Note: This story takes place about two months after the events in After the Toss which was set at the end of the series.

Author's Note: This series which I hope to write as a trilogy, is a sequel to my stories, Turning Points, Mending Fences, Chances and Choices, and After the Toss. I would recommend reading them in the order listed here. Whenever possible, I will try to incorporate real Navy and Marine bases and ship names except those firmly rooted in canon. (I.e. JAG HQ in Falls Church and the USS Patrick Henry, USS Seahawk, etc.) The writers of JAG incorporated real world events into the series, in the interest of realism, a trend I will continue, however some world events depicted here will be strictly fiction.

Technical Note: While the writers of the series stayed mostly within the realm of current military technology, they did take some poetic license in several episodes, most notably, the carrier based F-117A in The Black Jet, the real-time communications system used in Silent Service and Enemy Below, and the Aurora spy plane seen in The One That Got Away. In this same spirit I have depicted two fictional versions of the F-22A Raptor. The F-22A/N carrier based version and the F-22B/N a naval two seat version. The two seat version, the F-22B was dropped from the program in 1996 to save development costs and the naval variant was cancelled in 1993. As an aviation enthusiast, I am well aware of these facts and my deviation from them is by design.

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Prologue:

June 7, 2005 03:35 ZULU

USS Patrick Henry

Sea of Japan, 150 Miles east of the North Korean Coast.

Deep in the bowels of the Nimitz class super carrier, Captain Robert Carlson the ship's CAG, or Commander Air Group, watched the tactical display in the darkened cave which was the ship's CIC. The Combat Information Center, illuminated mostly by layers of computer, radar displays, and communications equipment was the nerve center for the entire task force.

Despite being located under the ship's island superstructure, the sounds of aircraft landing on the deck still permeated the compartment. The last time Carlson had seen such extensive flight ops was when he was a young ensign, serving on the Ticonderoga during the Vietnam War.

Standing next to him was the ship's commanding officer, Captain Tobias Ingles.

"Looks like it's going to be another busy day, Skipper," Carlson said to his boss, pointing to the blips on the display. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were trying to goad us into a fight."

"A fight they will find very exciting, for a very short period of time, Bob," offered Ingles. "I have no doubt that if things were to get serious, we would clean their clocks in short order. Are all your men clear on the ROE?"

"Very clear, Skipper," replied the CAG, having reviewed the rules of engagement personally with each squadron.

"The last thing I need is to deal with a JAG-MAN investigation this close to retirement," added the ship's captain. Ingles had been in command of the Patrick Henry for almost seven years. He also enjoyed the amenities of being a plank owner.

The crackling of the communications circuit caught the attention of both men.

"Eagle base, this is Lookout One. Two bogies, angels thirty, bearing two, seven, nine, heading, zero, eight, three, speed, three, five, zero, range, one, two, zero, and closing."

"Eagles one, and two, move to intercept," ordered the CAG.

The E2C Hawkeye, was flying in a circular pattern about thirty miles to the southwest of the task force's current position. Radar data from the remote aircraft was fed into the ship's combat information system, showing the blips in real time.

It had been the same game most of the day. The Korean Peoples Air Force fighters would suddenly turn towards the American task force assuming a provocative posture before breaking away and turning for home, engaging in what the top brass had called saber rattling. With America forces engaged in both Iraq and Afghanistan, it came to no surprise to Carlson that the North Koreans would exploit the opportunity to their advantage.

The KPAF aircraft involved were mostly MIG-21s, but they had been able to identify a squadron of MIG-23s. They had yet to spot any MIG-29s, which, with a well trained pilot, were more than a match for the F/A-18 Hornets. Carlson had seen the latest intel reports, however, and they indicated that the MIG-29s were deployed to protect the capitol city of Pyongyang. He didn't expect to ever see any of them venture too far from home.

"More MIG-21s," asked the Skipper?

"Probably, they have more of those than any other fighter," replied the CAG. "If they do ever send up the varsity, I might start to get a little nervous. That new Russian anti-ship missile is nothing to take lightly. The good news is the KPAF can only carry them on a MIG-29."

"Who's flying CAP?"

"Tuna, Athena, Bullfrog, Snake, and Splashdown," replied the CAG, referring to the aviators by their call signs. "Tuna has the lead, today."

Tuna and Athena, an interesting pair, to say the least, thought Carlson. Shipboard scuttlebutt had the two aviators, Lt. Commander Michael Costa and Lt. Commander Katherine Skunzia, joined at the hip, so to speak, an accusation which the two of them vehemently denied. But Bob Carlson had seen the interplay between them and he was sure their relationship was more than platonic.

Whatever form their relationship took, it hadn't interfered one iota with their duties so Carlson chose to look the other way. Whatever they do on their own time is their business.

...

Fifty miles to the west, Lt. Commander Mike Costa pushed his F-18 through Mach 1 hoping to intercept the incoming aircraft before they got too close to the task force. As had been the drill for the past few days, the rival aircraft would try to maneuver into firing position and achieve weapons lock on their opponent. Technically, a non-lethal exercise, Mike knew the danger here was very real. Still, he tended to make light of it.

"So, Katie," he said to his wingman over the radio. "Are you ready to twist some tail with these guys?"

"I don't know, Mike, I've got a bad feeling about this one," she replied.

By the sound of her voice, he knew she was serious. Trusting her intuition, he replied, "Let's drop to subsonic. I'll break high and right and see if these guys are alone."

Costa pulled off the power and pulled his Hornet into a banking climb, allowing his radar to view the incoming targets from a different perspective.

"Lookout one, this is Eagle one. Verify number of targets."

"Eagle one, I am now tracking four, repeat, four inbounds. Sixty miles and closing fast!"

"Katie, break right and form back up on me," he said, knowing this was going to be a fur ball. Shit!

...

Back in the CIC, Captain Carlson had been listening to the events unfold. Bypassing the Petty Officer at communications, he picked up the mic himself. "Eagle three, Eagle four, back up one and two, your speed is buster. Eagle one, this is Home Plate, do not, repeat, do not engage until additional aircraft arrive."

...

Costa chaffed at the order to disengage and would have protested had it not been for the unshakable trust in his friend and wingman.

"Copy, Home Plate. Breaking off."

Costa banked his F-18 into a gentle bending turn which would draw the potentially hostile aircraft away from the fleet while allowing time for the rest of his group to arrive. Then we can have some fun with these guys.

"Tuna, this is Bullfrog. We are thirty seconds out and still supersonic. We'll form on your right wing."

"Roger, Bullfrog. Home Plate, this is Eagle one. Request permission to engage targets."

"Eagle one, permission to intercept and identify is approved, weapons hold. Remember the ROE, Commander," replied Carlson.

"Understood, CAG. Eagle one to group, we'll take them down the left side, once they pass, break and engage!"

Costa was blessed with better than average eyesight, a trait which gave him a step up as an aviator. What he saw when the opposing aircraft came into view, chilled him to the bone. The enemy aircraft were MIG-29s and had opened fire.

The 30mm canon rounds from the MIG tore through the left side of Costa's aircraft, damaging his portside engine and causing his plane to trail smoke. He was a sitting duck.

...

"Tuna…Mike!" exclaimed Katie. "Are you all right?"

Skunzia slammed her stick hard over, banking into a steep turn in an effort to cut off the enemy MIG which was closing on Tuna's six. Once she had lined up, she triggered off a round of 20mm cannon shells into the cockpit of the enemy aircraft. The MIG-29 caught fire and rolled over like a dead whale as it dove towards the sea.

"Athena, watch your six!" cried Bullfrog.

"I've got her covered," another voice yelled. "Athena, break left."

Instinctively she pulled into a hard left bank allowing Splashdown to smoke the MIG which had been trailing her.

The battle was over almost as fast as it started with Bullfrog downing another MIG before the last one decided to bug out.

"Where's Mike?" Athena called over the radio.

"Right beside you, Katie," replied her friend. She looked out her starboard side and felt a surge of relief pour through her heart. But she shuddered when she saw the condition of his aircraft.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again," she replied. "Did anyone else get hit?"

"Snake got hit with a missile," said Bullfrog. "I saw him punch out and I saw a good chute. I was going to drop to the deck and see if I can locate him."

"Take Splashdown with you to cover your six. Loiter here as long as fuel permits. I'm escorting Tuna back to the ship."

"Katie, wait just a second," protested Costa, but Katherine wasn't hearing any of it.

"No arguments, Mike, I don't even know if you'll make it back with the condition your plane is in. Form up on me. That's an order!"

Although they we both the same rank, Costa had eight months time in grade on her, but he offered no further resistance. He'd better not if he knows what is good for him.

...

In the CIC Captain Tobias turned to the CAG, and spoke just loud enough for him to hear, "Still think there is nothing going on between them, Bob?

With that, he made his way out of the CIC, presumably heading for the bridge.

"Petty Officer Clemens, notify the Air Boss, we have a damaged aircraft coming in. Have him dispatch a helo and commence SAR operations in the area where Snake went down."

"Aye, aye, sir."